Recipes For Disaster
by The Joe and Gromit Show
Summary: Joe: Each character of the Devil May Cry Canon is given the opportunity to write the storyline for the next DMC instalment. Watch as egos are inflated and fantasies are fulfilled. Nero's idea up!
1. Opening

_Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry. Capcom does, for better or for worse._

_Joe: This is quite literally just a random thought I got as a by-product of three cups of coffee in a row with not much else to do. This chapter won't provide what the summary promised, but will set things up. And, no, I'm not going to explain the whole 'Joe' thing. Check my profile to get filled in._

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"I've called you all here today so that we may all stand together to face a life-changing issue," Dante announced sternly to the group assembled before him in his office.

The group composed of his estranged twin brother Vergil, his devil-hunting partner Trish, his colleague Lady, his old friend Lucia...and Nero, who had not been invited, but knew Dante well enough to assume that he should show up anyway (had he not ventured to do so, he would most likely have received an angry lecture from Dante demanding why not). In fact, he had received a phone call from Dante to the effect that he had not been invited, but the underlying message remained that Nero should go, so that Dante would have an excuse to yell at him whether he opted to go or not. Seated beside and in the arms of Nero was Kyrie, who's existence had no other purpose than to do so.

All of which were seated on couches arranged so as to form a square, reminiscent of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Trish scurried back and forth from upstairs bearing a platter of tea, coffee, and biscuits, despite Dante repeatedly insisting that this was not the most suitable occasion for these.

Clenched tightly in Dante's hand was an envelope, which he held out at full arms-length for safety in the event that it exploded. This seemed a likely occurrence, taking into account Dante's fleeting nervous glances at said letter.

By now the entire group were eyeing the letter with similar unease. None of them save Dante knew what it contained, so you can imagine their collective disappointment when he opened it to reveal a sheet of ordinary paper. Kyrie shit herself in fright.

"I received this letter just this morning, at approximately thirty-six hundred hours," Dante began, as a red Kyrie hurriedly excused herself "When -"

"Thirty-six hundred hours?" Vergil interrupted, a superior smile spread across his normally neutral face – a record for him, at only twenty seconds into the meeting.

"Yes, at thirty-six hundred hours," Dante confirmed with diluted confidence "Right after I had my breakfast. I remember waking up at thirty-five hundred, twenty hours, and I check my mail right after that. Why?"

"No reason," Vergil replied, the superiority in his voice palpable "Proceed."

"Right...so, when I read this letter, I realised what a threat it posed to all of us," Dante continued, shaking the offending item vigorously – confirming that it was not a bomb by the absence of clanking metal - "The letter...is from Capcom. They're starting work on a sequel."

Only Trish was inflicted by this announcement, yet the degree of her worry compensated for it. Her mouth hung upon as her left arm proceeded to pour tea down Vergil's neck, who squawked loudly in protest as he indignantly leaped to his feet.

"So what?" Lady queried contemptuously as Vergil bombarded Trish with heated words accompanied by animated arm-flailing.

"_So what?!_" Dante repeated shrilly.

"Yes, that's what I said," Lady stated.

"Do none of you realise what this means?" Dante interrogated his audience sharply, all of whom responded with shaking heads; Trish had run upstairs to fetch a towel. Dante sighed impatiently.

"I'll tell you what it means," he said doggedly, his expression grim "Capcom – in their _infinite_ wisdom – are going to decide to try something _new and exciting, _as they always do. Be it a new character, or some preposterous new plot-device. What this actually _means_ is that the old characters – us – are in jeopardy."

The group was unimpressed.

"That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?," Nero scoffed.

"Your _face_ is a bit of an overstatement!" Dante quickly replied, before snapping his fingers in appreciation of his own hilarious comeback.

"Your _mother's_ a bit of an overstatement!" Nero retorted, equally quickly. Dante hissed through his teeth as he recoiled, taken aback, but speedily recovered and answered;

"Your _mother's __face_ is a bit of an overstatement!" Dante shot back. Nero gasped, blinked twice, then hung his head, defeated.

"So what I'm saying," Dante proceeded, a triumphant smile spread wide across his face "Is that Capcom habitually ruin plot aspects in the course of trying to improve it."

"Give _one_ example," Lady challenged him, her arms crossed.

"All right then," Dante relented, then cast his gaze about for material "...Lucia!"

The devil in question looked questioningly up from the tea tray, her mouth full of digestives.

"After the initial success of _Devil May Cry_, Capcom immediately decided that a sequel would be in order. Their result; _Devil May Cry 2_, with myself and Lucia here as the stars," Dante explained as Lucia eyed him reproachfully, knowing where he was going with this "As much as we all like to keep it locked up, _Devil May Cry 2 _exists. Lucia was presented as a solution to a problem that never existed. Capcom tainted the reputation of the series with this, and they know it. As a result, by the introduction of a sequel, _I_ was harmed. Potential fans would look at me and scoff, knowing what I starred in."

Dante narrowed his eyes at Lucia, who in a manner of speaking submerged herself under a large quantity of biscuits for cover.

"And it doesn't end there – oh, no. The _Devil May Cry_ franchise was large enough to earn a relatively large profit from the sub-par sequel, so yet another sequel was made. _Devil May Cry 3: Dante's Awakening _was the result," Dante lectured, beginning to pace back and forth with an occasional rising of his finger to make emphasis on certain points "Although the third instalment was a huge and deserving success, the newcomer to the series in the previous game was forgotten and abandoned."

Dante nodded sympathetically to Lucia, who burst into unsuitably noisy tears. Crumbs formed a sort of lumpy paste around her mouth, and indeed, her weight had increased exponentially since the second game.

"And you can see the result of _that,_" Dante stated, sympathy replaced by slight disdain. He was forced to raise his voice, so that Lucia's sobs would not drown out his words "But I'm not done! It was _certain_ that there would be yet another sequel, and Capcom did not disappoint with _Devil May Cry 4._ This time Nero and the Holy Knights were introduced, with Nero to a certain extent replacing myself."

Dante said this last part with unmistakable bitterness, but nodded politely at Nero.

"This was done to _freshen up_ the series, but was inevitable. However, the result of this sequel was that the older characters – Vergil and Lady here," Dante, again, nodded politely at those mentioned who nodded back "Were degenerated into something less than what they were. Lady, the moral backbone of the third instalment became eye candy-"

Lady grimaced and frowned in an accusing fashion at her suspiciously inflated breasts.

"While my brother Vergil here, essential key to the series' plot and contrasting character to myself, only existed in part of Nero's arm somehow. Admittedly, I remained my dashingly handsome self..." Dante trailed off. Lady and Vergil exchanged conflicted glances.

"As of yet, Nero and Kyrie – and Trish, I suppose – are the only ones undamaged by the introduction of a sequel. Now, Capcom are planning another such sequel. I'm sure you understand the severity of our situation."

The room went quiet temporarily, broken only by the eventual entree of Trish with a towel.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Vergil announced slowly, as he removed his coat "But Dante is right. We are all slowly fading away as Capcom experiments with new games."

"Which is why I called you all here in the first place," Dante stated, regaining his stern tone, but immediately disposing of it as he added "Except you, Nero. I don't know _what_ you're doing here."

Nero pretended he didn't hear anything and took a mouthful of coffee.

"Well, it's only progress," Nero said reasonably "I mean, a franchise has to adapt to stay alive."

"That's easy for you to say now," Dante told him darkly "You've only just been introduced. Just wait until this sequel...who knows what Capcom will do. Perhaps a gay new hairstyle? A contradicting personality, like me in the second instalment? Perhaps even a son?"

Kyrie poorly chose this time to return, still smelling vaguely like excrement. Nero's eyes widened at the thought of having a child, and then furthermore considered the thought of a child with this malodorous woman. He sharply stood up, expression dark.

"We have to do something, now."

"Exactly my point," Dante agreed "Which I tried to make ages ago. Now, that we're all prepared to act; **what do we do?**"

Silence reigned a second time, this time each person was deep in thought. Lucia even considered to stop eating. She declined, of course, but at least she considered it.

"I have a suggestion," Dante offered, smirking mischievously.

"No explosives," Vergil cut across him.

Dante promptly deflated, then sank back into the couch and began to sulk.

"There's only one thing we can do," Vergil stated sagely "We confront Capcom and demand that we oversee any writing on the sequel."

This suggestion was met by overall approval, but Lady cut across him.

"That's all well and good, but how do we get to Japan from here?"

"I have a biplane round back," Dante offered helpfully.

"That's..._ridiculous_. How on earth did you get a biplane?" Lady demanded cynically.

"Oh, I needed it to escape from Mallet Island," Dante replied conversationally.

"That's just awful writing," Nero stated sadly.

"And _that_ is exactly why we're leaving," Vergil pointed out, to which they all nodded in agreement and filed out.

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So it was that after a long and frankly preposterous voyage they arrived in front of Capcom's main building. The biplane was parked right in front of the main entrance, yet for some reason nobody seemed alarmed or even remotely surprised.

"Just to check that we're all here," Dante announced as he produced a checklist.

"Dante – I'm here, yeah - ...Vergil!"

"Here." Vergil replied.

"Trish!"

"Here," Trish answered brightly.

"Lady!"

"Mh-hm," Lady mumbled.

"Nero!"

"Right here," Nero responded.

"Kyrie!"

"Ah!" Kyrie jumped.

"Tubsy!"

Lucia began to wail uncontrollably. Dante snickered maliciously.

"_Dante!_" Trish scolded him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," Dante apologised dispassionately as he turned to the biplane and opened the fridge-sized cargo compartment, and retrieved Rebellion, Ebony and Ivory, and the others retrieved their respective possessions with which they could not possibly part.

"Everyone got their baggage? Lucia, got your ass?" Dante called out, then his cackling redoubled as Lucia's wails intensified to a deafening crescendo.

"That's enough," Trish warned him sternly.

"Fair enough," Dante answered, then headed into the building.

Due to their status in the corporation, they were allowed up to the CEO's office. Dante entered with his usual unsympathetic approach to doors (he kicked it violently off it's hinges) and glared at the smartly dressed man seated behind the desk, arms crossed. Everybody else took a similar stance.

The CEO was not the frail little old man Dante had rather hoped for, but rather appeared to only be in his late thirties. His black hair was greying slightly, but controlled somewhat by dye. His face was clear of any lines from age or stress, but to the contrary appeared vaguely happy to see the cast of _Devil May Cry_ angrily staring him down.

"How may I help you all?" The CEO inquired politely in flowing English.

"Don't play dumb with me," Dante growled menacingly "You _know_ why we're here."

The CEO considered him for a moment, before suggesting;

"You are displeased at the introduction of Nero."

"No I'm not," Dante answered, somewhat surprised.

"Yes you are," Nero corrected him.

"No I'm not," Dante retorted childishly, turning round to face Nero.

"You tried throwing me out of the plane twice," Nero stated bluntly.

"I – that – just..." Dante began falteringly "If you _must_ know, I'm just toughening you up. If you're to be my successor, you've got to grow some balls, kid."

"So you attempted throwing me out of a plane," Nero countered skeptically.

"Bet you weren't expecting me to do it twice," Dante replied with a grin.

"That raises some questions," the CEO interrupted "How did you all fit into a two-seated biplane?"

Silence.

"The reason why we are all here," Vergil announced in a commanding voice as everybody disregarded the preceding question "Is to demand that we take control over the writing of any further _Devil May Cry_ sequels, in order to protect the dignity of the series' cast."

"Yeah!" Kyrie added. Everybody else stared her down into embarrassed silence.

"You do realise how unreasonable these demands are?" the CEO stated calmly "Allowing the cast of a series to control it's production would be highly detrimental to the quality of any sequels."

"_Devil May Cry 2_," Dante argued.

"Touchè," The CEO submitted.

At this the CEO stood up and strolled slowly to gaze out of his window, overlooking the building plaza. His arms were held behind his back as he contemplated this proposal.

"This would be a considerable risk..." the CEO slowly deduced "Yet we at Capcom are always open to try new possibilities in our products..."

The cast allowed him an extended pause, before he slowly turned around with the smallest of smiles on his face.

"Very well. But do not disappoint me."

The group burst into cheers and laughter, save for Vergil and Lucia. Vergil did not emote because he never laughs unless in a sinister or sadistic fashion, and Lucia merely articulated her euphoria by eating the plastic decorative fruit on the CEOs desk.

"So, you will all be prepared to create a draft proposal for the storyline of the sequel?" the CEO inquired.

The group stopped cheering instantaneously, and exchanged uneasy glances. They all knew that co-operating was too heavy a task to set them.

"We take turns?" Dante suggested.

This was met with approval by the group, but the CEO was unsatisfied.

"You are asking me to allow a group of people who cannot even work together to assume control over the production of one of our most successful franchises? How can you expect me to allow such incompetence to carry the weight of such investment?"

"Surely, if we are to all compose a proposal, the competition would ensure that only the best plot be used? And thus, result in an altogether higher quality in the end product?" Vergil asked.

"Fine," the CEO said reluctantly "You will each draft a storyline for the next _Devil May Cry_. Have them in my office by this time next month. No later. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to lay off the writing staff of _Devil May Cry_..."

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_Joe: Things haven't really kicked off yet, but you get the gist of what's going to happen here. This was rather short, I have to admit, but it's necessary._

_And no, I know nothing of any actual sequel, but if anybody else does, could you let me know?_

_Reviews would be appreciated, if you think that this is a worthwhile idea, and I'm also giving you the opportunity to vote for which character's idea comes next chapter._

_'til then,_

_Ciao._


	2. Vergil's Proposal

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything, if that wasn't abundantly clear already._

_Joe: This is a pretty quick update for me, because this is an enjoyable story to write. I had this finished a good while before posting, but I normally wait until my previous update is replaced off the front page. In the end, I lost patience and updated anyway._

_Right, cheers to anybody who reviewed, but I'm afraid that there's no real way I can thank you save by written word. So how about multiple written words; thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. _

_To the point, the majority of people decided that Vergil should be the first on the list. Keeping in mind that this is a humour fic, I'm just going to say that good things come to those who wait. Just be a little patient, the humour will_ _arrive eventually, and I'll be sure to make it nice and long to make up for the wait_. _Also, be aware that anything written in **bold** occurs outside of the storyline drafted by the characters. Like, them pausing to have a cup of coffee or something. Or something less related to my caffeine addiction._

_Enjoy._

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The hunter observed the carnage below him with an indifferent gaze, nothing but the moonlight and the fire below illuminating his form. Yet he was safely hidden from the untrained eye, perched as he was on a neighbouring rooftop to the spectacle below, one with the shadows.

Police officials scurried back and forth like panicked little ants, attempting in vain to form a perimeter around the smouldering wreck at the centre of the road, so as to prevent intrigued civilians compromising the scene of the event.

Yet what had actually taken place was a mystery to all, even to the hunter, who betrayed his neutral demeanour momentarily, his face a mask of bewilderment. He recognised the burning wreck as the remains of a motorcycle, and was one of the few who appreciated that such a wreck could not have been the result of an everyday road accident. The devastated remains were too few and mishappen for that, and that particular cyclist would not have been killed if it had been an innocent occurrence.

This was of the hunter's knowing, as he also recognised the pitiful, charred remains of said driver. The devil hunter, Dante Sparda, son of the Legendary Dark Knight.

The hunter realised the significance of this catastrophe. That which was powerful enough to kill such a man, let alone make it appear to be an accident, was inestimably dangerous.

With his inhuman keenness of sight, the hunter noted the tire marks that lined the road leading to the wreck, indicating that the motorcycle had been travelling at an intemperate speed. Dante had been trying to catch something. Or trying to escape something.

This was further cause for concern, the hunter knew. The son of Sparda was not known to turn tail and flee, even from the most formidable of foes.

It was beyond a shadow of a doubt that the culprit was beyond human. The hunter knew this, as he himself was also of dark blood. The hunter had been patrolling the rooftops recently, stalking and eavesdropping on notorious devil hunters, listening for news. For a chain of suspicious events had recently occurred, evidently linked, although the hunter had much to learn yet and was attempting to do so.

The hunter himself had not weeks ago been denizen of the underworld, slave to the will of another. Only recently had the hunter awoken, ragged, in the middle of the human wilderness, after what must have been a coma of sorts. One does not simply stroll out of the underworld, let alone one that is unconscious.

After several days of growing accustomed to the human world once again, and of several nights of observing devil hunters exchange news, the hunter perceived that demon sightings were becoming worryingly and increasingly frequent.

And now Dante son of Sparda was dead.

The hunter leaped down into an alleyway adjacent to the building on which he had perched, then, taking care to remain stealthy, stalked off into the night.

Thoughts flowed rapidly through the hunters mind as he progressed. A large fluctuation in demonic activity was never a positive sign, but the fact that Dante had been purposefully taken out, by something far more than a lesser demon foretold imminent chaos. And the hunter knew that he would be the only being alive capable of handling such chaos, and thus the task of resolving this situation fell to him. The hunter was not one to abandon his duty. But the wisest course of action would be to terminate that which was responsible for this, before events spiralled out of control. To deal with the illness before any symptoms develop, so to speak. Control was essential to any efficient operation. Though, the hunter knew that in order to control the situation, he must first understand it. Lack of understanding betrays control, you cannot successfully contain the unknown. The only clear way he could strive to understand the situation would be to closely examine known areas of relevance. As of yet, the only such place was the _Devil May Cry _office, which had belonged to the mercenary Dante prior to his death. Just where the hunter was heading that very moment.

As the hunter arrived at the office, he noticed with alarm that the door was wide open, and the lights were on. Somebody else had business inside, for some reason.

As he slowly approached the door, the hunter clasped a hand to his waist and silently unsheathed a long katana. The noises of wooden furniture being flung across the office and metal implements crashing onto the ground were heard. Whoever was inside was either destroying the office or was searching it, and had lost their patience.

Counting to three in his head, the hunter moved inside, sword gripped tight. The hunter was somewhat taken aback to find a woman inside. She had long blonde hair, and was wearing what appeared to be a long, elegant robe that fabricated from soft, white material, but her upper chest was coated by an extra layer of what appeared to be leather padding. The hunter doubted very much that it was indeed leather, however. On her shoulder was a curious pattern, consisting of a circle reminiscent of the wheel of destiny, with a large, flaming blade depicted at it's centre. The significance of such an icon was unknown to the hunter.

The intruder was not immediately aware of the hunter as he entered, for she had evidently found that which she had been searching so determinedly for.

An impressive European broadsword, a zweihander with a spiral-designed handle, with a star design engraved at the centre of the hilt; the cloaked form of the sword Sparda, known in this form as Force Edge. Yet, it was troubling to the hunter to see it in such a state – for that meant that one of the amulets had been removed.

Indeed; a single chained golden amulet with a scarlet jewel embedded at the centre was at the side of the sword. Where the silver half was, the hunter did not know.

It was at this moment that the hunter decided to alert the intruder to his presence. In a lightning-swift motion, the hunter seized the intruder, turned her around, and laid his sword to rest underneath her chin. The intruder stifled an initial gasp of surprise, yet seemed otherwise unperturbed by the situation in which she now found herself.

"Who are you?" the hunter asked her coldly "And what is your business here?"

The intruder only smiled at the hunter, irritating him endlessly, yet he did not emote as such.

"My name is of no importance, Vergil, son of Sparda," she answered mysteriously, her expression superior despite the blade at her throat "And my business may soon be yours, if you care to lower your weapon."

"I don't have time for mystery. Tell me what you're here for, and how you know my name, and I will spare you," Vergil replied venomously, becoming increasingly disturbed by this woman's collected attitude, even as he threatened to kill her.

"You seem somewhat distressed," the woman noted, seeming to read his thoughts "Do I disappoint you? Should I be cowering like a cornered beast?"

Vergil blinked, enough to confirm the woman's statement.

"I know that you will not kill me, son of Sparda," she told him with that aggravating smile "Because I have an offer that may be of great interest to you."

Vergil considered this woman for a moment. She was obviously inhuman, or she would not act so coolly under the threat of death, nor would she have known his name. He lowered Yamato, his beloved katana, and sheathed it.

"Elaborate." he ordered.

The woman gave him that smile, then reached to retrieve the golden amulet. She fondled it in her hand as she inspected it curiously, then she held it out to give to Vergil.

"I'm sure you are aware of the significance of this amulet – besides a keepsake from your parents," she said.

Vergil stared at it for a while, before hanging it around his neck and tucking it into his shirt.

"Yes. My father used it as part of the ritual to seal away the demon world from the human world. But this is only half of the amulet."

The woman seemed disappointed, unnerving Vergil further.

"Only part correct," she told him with a frown "I must have overestimated you. I would have thought that you, of all beings, would have known the entire story."

Vergil's eyes widened and his mouth hung loose before he could contain himself.

"What more is there to know?" he demanded of her.

The smile returned to the woman's face as she took a seat behind Dante's desk, and gestured for Vergil also to seat himself. She evidently had quite a monologue to give.

"You do know why there was a war between the demons and humankind roughly two millenia ago?" she asked him.

"Yes. The demons wished to rule both their and the human domains, and the humans resisted," Vergil answered knowingly.

"Yes. But that is not the entire picture," she told him, before continuing "You see, in the beginning there was only the Underworld. A world filled with omnipotent beings who could create as they saw fit to fulfill their desires, be that structures, or life-forms to do their bidding. But only to a certain extent. They could not create wholesome, intelligent life, or the means to keep it alive."

She paused to ensure that Vergil understood, which he of course did; the only new piece of information here was that the Underworld was older than the human world. She continued.

"Naturally, with so many powerful demons, competition to conquer the Underworld was rampant. The only law was survival of the fittest. The Underworld was a place of unending conflict between the devils and their subordinates, and all was anarchy. After a long and bitter war, seeking a truce, the devils formed the Order. Just "The Order", for beforehand there was no civil grouping whatsoever."

The woman gestured to the insignia on her shoulder.

"This is it's symbol. Anyway, the Order was necessary because if the conflict continued to ensue, then all would perish. The Underworld had very finite resources, and those resources were being consumed at an alarming rate by the conflict. As I said before, devils could not maintain intelligent life – in this case their own lives – alive by their sheer power alone. So the Order was established for survival more than anything else. With the greatest minds collaborated, it was not long until the solution was found. They created an artefact of supreme power, that could create worlds and fill them with life. With this artefact, the Order created the human world, and divided it's land amongst themselves."

"What you are saying is..." Vergil interrupted "That this amulet created the human world?"

"Yes. But, let me finish," the woman reprimanded him "You see, the amulet created the human world, all life within it, and filled it with resources so that the devils could continue to live on. Humankind was created as a sub-race to serve the devils, intellectually and physically inferior, but suitable for servitude. But the devils underestimated the cunning of man. Man soon learned to become efficient, with his numbers and by utilising the world around him with all it's resources. And thus, mankind rebelled. Humans built up strength while the devils did not anticipate it, then waged war. At first, the war was intense and vicious, yet clearly the humans were gradually losing ground, but then one of the devils, your father Sparda, realised exactly how humans had grown, and came to believe that it was wrong to enslave them. He successfully led the humans, and those demons which mingled with the humans, against the devils.

"It was not long until Sparda had gained enough power to put an end to it all. He created a ritual, using one of the devil's strongholds, the Teme-Ni-Gru, and several key components. His own demonic blood, human blood, and this amulet. It seems that he appreciated irony."

"What is the relevance of this?" Vergil cut across her sharply "This is certainly news to me, but why are you telling me this?"

"I am one of the order, disguised as a human for now," she told him "We have long since decided that the human world has failed our expectations, and that we must destroy it and it's inhabitants and build a new world. We are no longer in a position in which we can once again dominate this world."

Vergil was tacken aback.

"Destroy the entire human world?" Vergil breathed "How do you expect me to want a part in this?"

"Because you are not your brother," she replied "We are offering a deal. You provide your services, and we grant you a position of power in the new world."

"Services?" Vergil queried, intrigued.

"We are not without enemies," the woman informed him "Many devils, one-time Order members, are satisfied with the human world. They, through means of their own, have gained power here, or feel that they may yet. Mundus is one such demon, as is Argosax, Athos, Crìnge, Ulcas, and Pontius. One of them must be responsible for terminating your brother. They must know what the Order is planning, and took Dante's side of the amulet. Dante must have known that they were after him – he evidently removed his side of the amulet before fleeing. Now we don't know who has their hands on it. However, it seems that your brother has already dealt with Mundus and Argosax, so we can narrow down the list of suspects. Though, without that side of the amulet, we cannot go through with our plans. Which is where you come in. We feel that you, the remaining son of Sparda, are the only one capable of dealing with these devils who oppose The Order."

A small smile was beginning to spread across Vergil's features, despite himself. He was being tasked with hunting down a handful of devils, in return for Supreme power. There could not be a sweeter deal.

* * *

**Vergil yawned audibly, his hands stretched into the air. His eyelids, he noticed, had become distressingly heavy. The PC monitor was slowly becoming a blur, and his fingers' movements had gradually become slow and sluggish. **

**He checked the time at the bottom right hand corner of the screen, and discovered with dismay that it was quarter past one in the morning. He had begun to type roughly after dinner. He eyed the empty glass on the desk reproachfully, for it once was filled with a substantial amount of red wine. Two empty bottles were placed to the side.**

**Grumbling irritably to the room, Vergil berated himself for staying up this late, and for having drank in excess while working. He then went silent as he realised that he was talking to himself. Anyway, he reflected, this work was to be his masterpiece, and he had to be at full mental alertness to do it justice. Time for bed.**

**Vergil set the computer to shut down, then groggily stood up, knocking the chair over with a noisy clatter. Indeed, his limbs were seeming to take brain commands as meek suggestions rather than orders.**

"**Shh!" Vergil reprimanded the chair, before attempting to make his way to bed. As his two suspiciously wobbling legs complied to his brain's will, albeit in a rather half-assed fashion, the end result was that Vergil appeared to be stretching his hamstrings.**

**He clumsily closed the door behind himself, which resisted his struggles a while before relenting to co-operate, then the somewhat light-headed son of Sparda headed across the hallway above the _Devil May Cry_ office to his temporary bedroom in which Dante and Trish had allowed him to stay.**

**The moment Vergil's head made contact with the bed, a door down the hallway slowly and quietly opened. Dante cautiously extended his head through the narrow gap he had made, and upon ascertaining that nobody could sense he was there, he exited the room and closed the door inaudibly behind him. Dressed in a scarlet night-robe, he tiptoed down the hallway, opened the study door, and flicked the computer on. As the machine whirred into life, Dante made his way downstairs to the fridge to retrieve a cold beverage to enjoy with his reading.**

**Upon returning, Dante typed in username; "Vergil", with "The Aeneid" as the password. The computer flashed a welcome message, and Dante grinned as he thought how predictable his brother really was, pausing to take a sip of Heineken, then clicking on "My Documents".**

**After a few minutes of inconclusive searching through Vergil's documents (mainly diary entries and sword-related pornography), Dante eventually unearthed a word document labelled; "_Devil May Cry 5: World's End_".**

**If Vergil was a little more open-minded to Hollywood and human affairs, he may have known that there was a blockbuster film of the sub-title '_World's End_', Dante mused. He opened up the document and began to read.**

**Seconds later, Dante cursed loudly.**

**After only a few paragraphs, Vergil had killed him off. _Typical._ Before Vergil had even established himself in the plot, he had seen to kill off Dante. And then he goes on to suggest that Vergil would get supreme power. **

"**What self-indulgence," the red-clad twin mumbled to nobody in particular.**

**Thoughts of delightful prank-related retribution coursed through Dante's mind, mainly involving razors and salt. None of these seemed satisfactory to Dante, though. The most severe prank he had thought of, Dante knew, would only have this effect:**

_Vergil: Oh. My dinner is kind of salty._

_Dante (sniggering childishly): Oh, _really_?_

**No, something a bit more drastic would need to be done, Dante decided as he glanced through Vergil's work. Something that would cause some...impact on Vergil. Somewhat salty roast chicken would not be much more than a mild inconvenience, and Dante was aiming for something closer to a...a...moderate inconvenience.**

**And then it hit him. Dante chuckled his evil chuckle as he rubbed his hands together in mischievous anticipation, then took a large gulp of Heineken, revelling in his own conniving brilliance. Dante clicked at the bottom of the last paragraph Vergil had composed. The computer placed a flashing line where he had clicked, awaiting input.**

**Clasping his two hands together and cracking them in a preparatory fashion, Dante then wiggled his fingers, and gleefully began to type.**

* * *

"Durh, I shore are stoopid!" Vergil exclaimed excitedly as he removed his pants and squatted over the floor, then took a dump, repulsing the woman endlessly.

"Oh naw!" he then shouted, realising his disastrous trajectory error "I tawt dat I poop on floor, but I really poop on my trousers! Oh gawd!"

The woman looked at him with nothing short of disgust, which Vergil mistook for carnal affection.

"Kiss me now! Durh!" he shrieked, pouncing forward to kiss the woman, which she dodged, because Vergil was nowhere near as attractive as Dante, nor as strong and intelligent and not-smelly. The woman stormed out irritably as she realised what a loser Vergil is, and that he smells bad.

"Aw, why can't I be more like Dante!" Vergil screamed at the heavens in anger and sexual frustration, because he never gets any action because the ladies all prefer Dante.

Vergil felt hungry, so he ate his own excrement with incomparable vigour.

"Yumm!" he said loudly as he slurped down the mushy goodness "I shore doo lurve to eat my own poop!"

Afer his faecal feast, Vergil for reasons of his own ran outside, and miraculously it was daytime again. Vergil pranced down the alleyway like a little schoolgirl (as he always does), merrily singing random words that went through his head (that featured in his lamentably small vocabulary), with no particular melody. Of course, he was blissfully unaware that he had forgotten his trousers, with no boxers to speak of.

Eventually he encountered a fountain in a plaza, populated by people on their lunch breaks, couples on benches, dog-walkers, and parents pushing prams around. Unable to suppress his infantile delight at a body of water, Vergil dived in, banging his head with a sickening _crunch_ as the water was very shallow.

"My God!" a passer-by exclaimed in horror "That woman isn't wearing any trousers or underwear!"

"I think it's a man," his friend corrected him vaguely.

"Are you sure?" inquired the first man doubtfully. The two squinted at Vergil's genitalia.

"My bad, it's a woman," the second man apologised, then the two got momentarily excited before remembering that it was a decidedly unattractive woman who was half-naked in the body of water.

"Ugh...oh God," said one as his stomach violently protested at the sight he was observing. He proceeded to vomit all over the path, a motion seconded by everybody in the vicinity.

A demon popped into life by the fountain. It looked around, vaguely distressed by it's sudden materialisation into existence. It then noticed that it was a demon, and was further disheartened. It then weighed the odds of this ever actually occurring with a puzzled expression, then shrugged it's shoulders and began randomly attacking people nearby, figuring that since it was a demon anyway, it may as well do it's job.

"Ah! A demon!" the civilians shouted.

"Aw! A demon! I'll get it!" Vergil bellowed loudly, before reaching for his sword and attempting to slash at the menacing beast.

He lightly scratched the demon's rags. Said demon was displeased by this. Not that the rag had cost him anything, but that the rag consisted of it's entire wardrobe. It howled in rage before brutally tearing Vergil apart with it's frightfully sharp claws.

"Aw, no!" Vergil screamed pitifully "If only I were Dante, then I could actually figh -"

"**What the hell are you doing?!" Vergil hissed.**

"**Gah!" Dante shouted, before toppling off the chair and crashing to the ground.**

**The younger twin looked up reproachfully at his elder brother.**

"**My business, that's what," Dante answered confidently.**

**Vergil glared at Dante in a manner that could have corrugated iron.**

"**You degenerate little...little...agh, I can't even find a word to describe you!" Vergil spat at Dante, who had found his way to his feet. "Why would you do this to my work? Why?"**

**Dante's mind raced remarkably quickly.**

"**That's...that's _my_ work," Dante answered calmly "Yeah. I was thinking of making the new game...a comedy...yeah. Stroke of inspiration. Didn't think I'd remember it by morning."**

"**Oh really?" Vergil queried icily, then swiftly reached over to the mouse and scrolled up.**

"**Then why is your opening _precisely_ like mine?" he demanded.**

**Dante blinked twice.**

"**_What a coincidence!_" Dante shrieked, both his hands elevated in the air in an exclamation of surprise "I mean, _what_ are the _chances_?...this isn't working, is it?"**

"**No."**

"**Hah. Exactly what procedure would you recommend for the easiest way out of this?"**

"**Die painfully."**

"**...I see. Any alternatives?"**

**Vergil placed a hand to his chin thoughtfully. This was a rare moment of power over his brother, and he should therefore utilise it wisely. Should he command Dante to eat something undesirable? Have intercourse with something inappropriate in public? Perhaps a stapler? Or, allow Vergil to humiliate him on an unprecedented level? Maybe all three at once? **

**Suddenly, a stroke of brilliance swept through Vergil's mind.**

"**There is _one_ thing I will permit you to do in order to allow this gross invasion of my work to slip by," Vergil slowly informed his brother, the smallest of smiles growing on his lips – which unnerved Dante endlessly "...you are to go, undetected, into Lady's apartment..."**

**Dante's eyes immediately widened. There weren't many things in the world which frightened the son of the Legendary Dark Knight, and an angry Lady was one of them. Aware of Dante's growing anxiety, Vergil gleefully continued.**

"**...while she is asleep, creep into bed beside her. You are not to do anything that would constitute assault, nothing like that. You are merely to _snuggle, _as it were. When she awakes, ask her how she slept, using a term of affection, as if you were her loving husband."**

**Dante was trembling at this stage, sweat pouring copiously down his forehead. The smell of his fear thrilled Vergil, who savoured it.**

"**Can...can I do it tomorrow night?" Dante whimpered "I mean...to give me time...time with my working limbs before she...she..." he trailed off, leaving the statement at that. Vergil understood.**

"**Fine. But it _must_ be tomorrow night." Vergil mercifully relented "Now go to bed."**

**Dante skulked back to his bedroom, his head hung like a child caught in the act of a misdeed.**

**Chuckling to himself in a sinister fashion, Vergil turned to the computer, exited the word processor and chose not to save changes. He then shut it down, before retiring to bed.**

**His dreams were filled with the happy thoughts of Lady ripping Dante apart.**

**

* * *

****Hours later, at around five o'clock, the door to Dante's bedroom opened slowly and quietly. The only lesson that he had learned was that he had not been hard enough on Vergil.**

* * *

_Joe: Hoped yis enjoyed._

_Don't know about you, but I would have actually played that game Vergil entailed. I sort of felt a little bad that I had wasted a plot theory. The story at the beginning of the chapter did seem a little rushed, but I had to in order to fit it into a chapter with room for sufficient humour. That could have been a halfway decent fic. Maybe._

_I'm afraid there's no choice on the next chapter – it's going to be Dante's idea. After that, it's up to you._

_You know the drill; please review since you read this far. Doesn't matter if you are signed in or not, your reviews are like crack to me. Yes, like crack. It's a term of phrase, people, calm down._

_Wish yis all the best, Joe signing out._


	3. Nero's Proposal

_Disclaimer: If for whatever reason you may think I do, I do not own Devil May Cry. Capcom does._

_Joe: Did I say that this chapter would belong to Dante? I meant Nero. But Dante will feature in this in some shape or form anyway._

_Yeah, and you might notice the change in writing styles throughout the chapters, and even between alternate scenes in the chapter. I'm trying to emulate what I imagine to be the writing style of the different characters. The previous chapter was a poor attempt at eloquence with a dark overtone, in Vergil's writing, by the way. The first chapter and the paragraphs in bold are my own natural style._

_And thanks to anybody who was kind enough to feed my raging review addiction, you're all good people. Anyway, getting on with it..._

_

* * *

_

The world exploded back into existence, accompanied by an agonisingly loud ringing noise emitted by an alarm clock.

Groaning, Nero slowly opened his eyes as his mind throbbed in protest to the intemperately loud alarm. He lazily reached out and pressed his hand forcefully down on the alarm clock, which ceased ringing immediately. The time read five o'clock in the morning.

With an agitated sigh, Nero collapsed into the pillow, his mind slowly registering that the alarm had rang for a reason. He had duties to fulfill, even at this godforsaken hour.

Despite this interruption of his sleep, Nero felt himself quickly dozing off once again; it seemed not minutes ago that he had laid himself down to rest after a twenty-hour shift. And now his alarm informed him that it was time to repeat that cycle. Rejecting this notion, Nero's mind slowly fell back into warm, inviting unconsciousness.

It was then that a searing pain burned his mutated, demonic arm; his devil bringer. Gasping sharply, Nero instantaneously bolted upright, gripping his devil bringer with his human hand. The pain subsided just as quickly as it had come.

Now wide awake, Nero remembered that it was time to get up. He glanced over at the other side of the bed. Kyrie was miraculously still asleep. She had evidently grown accustomed to his routine early morning alarms. Nero envied her.

Running a hand gently through her silky auberne hair, Nero sighed once more before planting a kiss on her cheek and exiting the bed.

Pulling open the wardrobe, Nero withdrew his uniform; a beautiful white suit with ornate gold embroideries adorning the shoulders, and genuine gold buttons lining the front. The uniform of the General of the Holy Knights of Fortuna.

As he slowly dressed himself, Nero reflected on the events that led to his earning of this elegant uniform.

Sanctus, the former Vicar of Sparda, betraying his flock by attempting a hostile takeover of mankind, seeking to convert the entire globe to his demonic cult. Not only were his intended flock required to worship the Savior, Sparda, but the 'angels' that he had twisted his own and his chosen subordinates likenesses into.

Indifferent to the odds, Nero had set to destroy Sanctus and his conspirators against mankind. Both he and the son of Sparda had together strove to deal with the corrupted clergyman and his precious 'Savior'.

The residents of Fortuna were endlessly grateful for their endeavours, and had every intention of providing due reward. Nero had been granted the coveted position of General of the Holy Knights, replacing his former 'brother' Credo, the man who died to redeem himself for his choices in life. Besides, the citizens of Fortuna needed a sign of hope to gather around, and their Savior-in-the-flesh Nero, as General of the Holy Knights, was exactly what fit the bill.

However, Dante, the son of Sparda was nowhere to be seen, having departed along with his partner Trish before anybody could stop them. Nobody on the island knew where they lived, or how the find out. The son of Sparda vanished from their lives like smoke in the breeze.

Speaking of Sparda...

Nero examined his devil bringer thoughtfully, his devil bringer that somehow affiliated him to that bloodline. Ever since he had obtained Yamato, Nero's entire anatomy had undergone drastic improvements in terms of performance. He could fight much better, could run at incredible speeds, could endure crippling amounts of damage without even gasping, and could think much clearer than he had ever done before. The resonance between the blade and his devil bringer was a mystery to Nero, even before considering the overall improvements it was having on his body. Dante had informed him that Yamato was a devil arm that had once been in the possession of his twin, Vergil. That was the only link Nero could draw between himself and the Sparda bloodline, but how it allegedly made him member of that bloodline was still a vague issue.

As Nero buttoned up his jacket, he cast a glance at Kyrie, who was slumbering peacefully.

It had seemed that not all recent changes were improvements. He didn't know why, but from time to time he suffered from bouts of fiery rage, his body shuddering as the blood pouring through his veins felt like lava...and then there was the voice. The ethereal, commanding voice that whispered dark words in Nero's mind whenever he underwent these fits of rage. Always demanding power, more power. It seemed strange that the same phenomenon that granted him great amounts of physical power ordered him to seek out yet more power. And the anger and frustration slowly tore away at him, unwilling as he was to give in, though this gave way to even more anger. Resisting it seemed futile, and also counterproductive in this way.

He had almost struck Kyrie on one occasion, the memory of this still caused a wave of self-loathing to course through Nero. He didn't understand these changes, how they had come to pass, or more importantly why they were coming to pass, but slowly but surely it was damaging his life; his relationship with Kyrie, and his very being as it was eaten away by what seemed to be another being within the same body.

Reaching to open a large cupboard under the wardrobe, Nero obtained his beloved Red Queen, and sheathed it at his waist, as opposed to at his back. In an adjacent cupboard he seized his double-barrelled revolver, christened Blue Rose, which he placed in his coat. He then set out for work.

The headquarters of the Holy Knights had not been rebuilt, for it would involve such an excessive amount of effort and time to rebuild, while the port town of Fortuna itself needed such attention. Instead, materials scrapped from the ruins of the former headquarters were used to build a much more humble building, adjacent to the Hotel Fortuna in the business district situation by the Opera House plaza.

...

**Nero ceased typing for a moment, before stretching his stiff arms and neck, each making a rather satisfying crack in turn. Typing thus far had taken quite a long duration of time, and he considered taking a short coffee break as a small reward to himself.**

**Deciding that this was a great idea, he first glanced through his work to inspect quality before taking his break. He smiled brightly with himself in contentment. So far, so good.**

**He was confident in the chances of his proposal being the draft accepted by Capcom for the new instalment of Devil May Cry. Excited with the idea of an entire game to himself, Nero cheerfully left his seat to go and make a well-deserved pot of coffee.**

**Himself and Kyrie were staying with Lady for the duration of the group's little competition. This was because of the fact that there were not many domestic computers on the island of Fortuna. The Holy Knights had once boasted one of the most advanced research laboratories in the field of supernatural biology, and development of the associated standard of technology, but this had been destroyed by Dante along with most everything else as a result of his rampage through headquarters. Entirely well-meaning, but overly enthusiastic, the son of Sparda had demolished the computers with glee comparable to an obnoxious teenager stepping on a younger sibling's sandcastle.**

**So it was that computers had become a rare commodity in Fortuna, until the island one day regained it's economy and amassed funds to import such luxuries – not to mention toilet paper and sugar. They were suffering from a harrowing shortage of sugar. Their tea and coffee wasn't that nice anymore. Well, not _bad_, but it didn't taste _nice_...**

**Lady had graciously volunteered to accommodate the couple in her spacious apartment, which although was situated on the rough side of town, the gesture was too kind to pass down. Plus, to be frank Lady was rather intimidating and nobody wanted to make her feel unwanted or to displease her in any obscure shape or form. She was aware of this, but okay with it. **

**Both Lady and Kyrie were currently present, so Nero had the apartment to himself. In another man's mind (namely Dante's), this would have been the opportune moment to parade around energetically, completely naked save for a pair of sunglasses and a _Blues Brothers_-style hat, while singing loudly into a broom handle to the raucous sound of a booming stereo. Nero entertained no such thoughts. To him, his solitude meant peace and quiet while he performed a much more productive activity: drafting his storyline proposal, with absolutely no interruptions.**

**The implications of this, Nero mused as he filled the coffeemaker with hot water alongside a suitable amount of coffee beans, was that he ensured the best he could possibly offer, with nothing to distract him.**

**With this in mind, Nero could not think of anybody likely to compose a better draft than he. He had been duly informed that Dante had sabotaged Vergil's proposal during the night – twice - before e-mailing it to Capcom the second time, before his twin could stop him. Without the anticipated opposition Vergil would have been, Nero had no real obstacles as he established himself as the new face of Devil May Cry.**

**Returning to the office with a steaming mug of coffee, Nero happily sat himself in front of the PC. Pausing only to take a sip from his mug and to exude an appreciative sigh, Nero resumed typing.**

...

Things had been busy at headquarters. There were, even at this late stage, still demons running around the island, preying on helpless civilians.

As General, Nero was expected to remain at headquarters and issue orders, but the troubled young man instead took to embarking on lone expeditions across the island, hunting whatever demons he encountered. He left administration to those willing to do so.

The Holy Knights had been reduced to a pitiful taskforce of twenty. After the fall of Sanctus and the false Savior, the cult had disassembled, the residents of Fortuna feeling that the entire cult had been merely part-in-parcel of Sanctus' lies. The Holy Knights had not been renamed, but still remained an iconic defensive force protecting the people of Fortuna. And even that was beginning to fall under question. People were beginning to wonder whether the Knights were a remaining force of Sanctus' making, whether those knights who remained secretly harboured ideas of another diabolical plot. As such membership fell to a complete halt.

However, the overwhelming majority of demons had been vanquished, and their hell-gates located and destroyed. There was no point of entree from which they could invade the island again, and the few remaining demons were being hunted down constantly.

Little by little, Nero slowly came to realise that the time was drawing near where the people of Fortuna would no longer need him. And at these thoughts he would wonder what he would do next.

With nothing to fight, he knew that his already unbearable fits would grow chaotic. He would be unable to restrain the intensity of the bottled-up fury that would inevitably explode one day, should there be true peace.

Nero knew that because of this he could not stay at Fortuna much longer. He would need to relocate, to somewhere more exciting. Perhaps join up with Dante. Perhaps establish a rival agency.

Besides, Nero needed answers. There had to be somebody out there who understood that which plagued him, and he needed to find them.

But these notions were not new to Nero. He had been considering leaving for quite some time now; the meager demon 'problem' that remained was nothing for the remaining nineteen knights to handle.

And it was that very day that his devil bringer began periodically hurting him, even though he was not currently suffering from a violent fit, that Nero decided to bring his plan into fruition. He would leave Fortuna, and embark on a quest; a quest to find a new place to belong, but primarily a quest to find answers.

He did not bear the thought of saying goodbye to Kyrie, so he decided to do without. His fears were twofold. In one case she could be heartbroken and worried and make the event unnecessarily difficult; emotionally blackmail him to stay or prevent him from leaving with other means. In the other case, which was the greater fear by far, the recent tension between them would result in her lack of care or worry, and her being generally unconcerned that he may never return and not even try to stop him. In that case it would essentially be their breaking up.

The knight could not bring her with him for several reasons. Kyrie, whether he liked to admit it or not, would be a burden at best on a possibly dangerous journey. Also, Nero constantly sensed his problem intensifying, and could not risk harming her. If he should ever return, then in that occasion he would ideally have resolved the problem entirely. Plus, if he did bring her along, his problem would only result in further dispute between the couple in the meantime.

Nero was entering the headquarters of the knights as he needed to pack up provisions for a long journey. This required stealing from the armoury and storeroom, and by duty his own men would be forced to attack him. Nero did not want unnecessary violence, especially if the enemy be human. Wearing his uniform and keeping in time with his usual schedule meant he avoided suspicion, until he had already left and it was too late.

The soon to be ex-General nodded curtly at the knight who was stationed at the entrance before heading down towards the storeroom. The knight was not suspicious of this as he watched his superior open the door and descend the spiral staircase. It was normal for the General of the Knights to perform routine inspections of his troops and premises. Credo in particular had been notorious for giving unannounced inspections of the former headquarters and knights' cleanliness and 'respectability'.

Down in the storeroom, any equipment used by the Holy Knights besides weaponry was held, not just food. This meant clothing and travel equipment also. Nero had ventured down here to obtain camping equipment; a tent, cooking utensils, barbecue equipment, a supply of rations until he could obtain more further on in the adventure, and different forms of protective clothing. This involved locating a set of his favourite coat; the violet overcoat with the knight's seal on the shoulder. He had not worn his old one in months, and could not locate it. Nero had worn his own clothing under the uniform, which meant that had been forced to walk to work wearing two pairs of trousers.

He cast his General's uniform to the ground, before placing the rucksack on his back with a heave.

Now, all that was left to do was to

...

**Nero heard the front door opening with the usual creak. He frowned before checking his watch. Lady and Kyrie were not expected home for another three hours. Nero considered the situation. He knew of nobody else that lived here, or that was anticipated to drop by.**

**However, now that he thought of it, Lady had informed him that she had entrusted a spare set of keys with -**

"**Hey, kid? You here?" the voice called out loudly, unmistakeably Dante's.**

**Nero was unable to suppress a groan before banging his head into the keyboard, typing unintelligible gibberish into his draft. The half-devil nearby heard the youth's groan, and proceeded to make his way towards the study, but not without mentally punishing the knight for his innocent groan.**

"**Now, now, contain your sexual frustration, I'm here now," the son of Sparda jeered audibly, smirking to himself as he entered "But if I haven't told you a million times before, I'm not interested, kid."**

**It was the concept of exactly this that made Nero wary of Dante's presence as he worked. Hell, as he did pretty much anything. Not that he was afraid of the red-clad hunter, it was just that Dante's particular brand of humour required a certain amount of patience on Nero's part, patience that was not readily accessible at all times.**

"**Watcha writing? Not fanfiction again?" Dante queried imperiously, head cocked forward over Nero's shoulder to read the last line of input.**

"**_Now, all that was left to do was to wgjr;uo!g"tu'''hthneelijl?-jqwo?_" Dante read aloud, a puzzled expression marring his features "Now, what's _that_ supposed to mean?"**

"**I, er, banged my head on the keyboard," Nero answered honestly, after taking a fortifying deep breath. "I mean, slammed my head on the keyboard!" Nero quickly corrected himself as he observed the mischievous smile that spread quickly across the half-devil's features upon discovering that the youth had '_banged a keyboard_'. Dante truly was worryingly predictable.**

"**I see. This your draft for the sequel?" the son of Sparda asked interestedly.**

"**Uh-huh. You can read it after it wins," Nero replied with a smile, hurriedly quitting the document before Dante got any ideas. "So, what are you doing here?"**

"**Me? Oh – yeah," Dante responded vaguely, before answering "Wanna go out for a drink?"**

"**I'm a bit busy here," Nero said reasonably, inclining his head towards the computer monitor. Dante did not appear to be listening, but rather, pulled a chair from beside the nearby bookcase and parked himself beside Nero. "Can't you get somebody else to go?"**

"**Nope. Nobody wants to go with me," Dante replied brightly, his happiness seeming out of context with his words "Trish refuses to go anywhere in public with me anymore, Lady and Kyrie are gone, _I_ don't want to be seen in a bar with Tubsy, and Verge's giving me the silent treatment."**

"**Vergil isn't talking to you?" Nero asked, an eyebrow raised. It did not seem to be a punishment that Vergil was likely to utilise.**

"**It's great, isn't it?" Dante retorted delightedly, bouncing on his seat "He normally uses blackmail when I do shit he doesn't like, and he had a plan thought out. But then I -" Dante screwed his face to a grotesque contortion and adopted an uncomfortably high voice "'_Crossed the line, nuuuuhhh_'."**

**Had this been out of context, Nero would never have guessed that Dante was impersonating Vergil. If anything, Vergil's voice was lower than Dante's, and Nero shrewdly guessed that the '_nuuuuhhh_' was not a direct quote from the other son of Sparda. Dante proceeded in his own voice.**

"**-so, 'cause of all that, he's decided to pretend I don't exist. Says he has no brother." Dante concluded with a pleasant smile.**

"**Don't you think that you _did_ go a bit far?" Nero inquired, his arms crossed "I think he might actually be hurt. He's actually renouncing the fact that you're related – let alone that you exist."**

"**Nah, don't mind him," Dante waved it off dismissively "He's just man-struating."**

"**Manstruating" Nero repeated, amused.**

"**Yup. The act of the penis inverting inwards to become a vagina," Dante informed Nero sagely. "It's very common among drama queens."**

**Nero shook his head, pressing his fingers to his eyes, trying in vain to repress images of this upsetting illness of questionable likelihood running through his mind.**

"**Look, Dante, I have things to do. I guess you'll just have to go alone."**

"**I'm not going _alone_!" Dante spat, scandalised "That's worse than going with Tubsy!"**

"**Well, do what you want, I'm staying here to finish my work." Nero informed him firmly.**

**And with that, Nero reopened his document and resumed writing once again, after deleting his previous gibberish. Dante promptly began to sulk in the chair beside Nero.**

**...**

Now, all that was left to do was to make his way outside undetected. The guard at the entrance would be a problem, however. Nero aimed to sneak up on him, and deal a sharp blow to the back of the head, whi

"**Come oooooonnn," Dante crooned softly.**

"**No." Nero replied firmly, "Now shut up, I'm working."**

which should knock the knight out. Assuming that nobody sees this...

Nero frowned to himself. The new Holy Knight headquarters was located on the business district, there was bound to be people outside who would notice him, Nero, rendering his own man unconscious.

If there was some other way that Nero could make his way out without making a spectacle of this...

"**There isn't, 'cause you suck," Dante pointed out with a snide grin. Nero ignored him.**

Possibly some way that wouldn't involve violence...

"**Bo-ring" Dante remarked with a convincing yawn.**

Perhaps Nero should just make a dash for it. His plan had been to hijack an aeroplane from the relatively small and badly-guarded airstrip, not to _swim_ off the island, after all.

"**You can't just fly any random aeroplane, the fans'll get annoyed," Dante stated informatively.**

"**You flew an antique biplane in your first game," Nero replied irritably.**

"**Yeah, but I'm awesome," Dante responded, as though this were a painfully obvious fact of life.**

**Nero began gritting his teeth in aggravation.**

"**Just get out, Dante." he commanded in a carefully measured tone.**

"**No."**

"**Get out, Dante!" Nero ordered, raising his voice slightly.**

"**You can't tell me what to do!" Dante said indignantly, pointing a thumb at himself "I do what I feel like, kid." And with that, he reached over and mashed his hand into the keyboard.**

"**Stop that!" Nero demanded sternly.**

"**No." answered Dante, who was proceeding the type out his astonishing vocabulary of profanities and of the female anatomy.**

"**Get _out!_" Nero barked, seizing Dante with his devil bringer and flinging him out of the door with a mighty throw. He quickly raced up to slam the door and lock it, before letting out a sigh of relief and sitting himself back down. He deleted Dante's recent addition to his work before continuing.**

...

The airstrip, though the only method of flying in or out of the island, was poorly guarded. If somebody who knew the layout as well as Nero did were to race in and seize a small plane, there was little anybody could do. Besides, Nero had gradually become much faster than any human, and his brainpower even more so.

_**Thump.**_

Nodding to himself, Nero made his way

_**Thump**_.

Up the spiral staircase and through the door, finding himself in the entrance hallway outside the front

_**THUMP.**_

Door, where the guard would be watching for anything unexpected.

_**SMASH**_.

**The door was kicked forcefully from it's hinges, and was sent crashing to the floor. Dante strolled in quite leisurely, acting vaguely surprised to find Nero in the study. He calmly sat back down beside Nero.**

"**Door's broken," he informed an exasperated Nero in a matter-of-fact tone.**

**Nero found that his former tactic of ignoring the son of Sparda to be the most efficient, and he decided to make further use of this tactic.**

Taking in a preparatory deep breath, Nero then bolted at full speed through the door and down the street. He only barely registered the guard's shocked exclamation, and had gone before he heard how the guard reacted.

Nero did hear the sounds of shocked people all around him, nobody expecting to see the General of the Holy Knights tearing down the street, much less at the inhuman pace at which he did so.

"**Poke." Dante announced, prodding Nero firmly at the side of the head, slightly pushing his head to lean towards the left. Nero's head returned to it's former position and he, like before, pretended that nothing strange had happened.**

After a short while, Nero saw the bridge tower of the airstrip approa

"**Poke." Dante insisted, prodding Nero rather forcefully again.**

approaching, and it seemed that nobody was fast enough to catch up to him, having not expected Nero to dart out of HQ. He wondered if the guard had even noticed that he was stealing from the inventory.

"**Poke."**

Having reached the airstrip, Nero looked around in hopes of finding a suitable, small plane that would be able to land on rough terrain.

"**Poke."**

He had to act quickly – several guards on the bridge tower had noticed him, and were coming out to inquire what his business was.

"**Poke."**

"**Agh!" Nero shouted, his hand clasped to his face "Dante, that was my _eye_! You absolu-"**

"**Poke." Dante persisted, evidently enjoying himself.**

**Nero began growling audibly, so it came to no surprise to Dante that he raised his devil bringer in an attempt to attack Dante. Thinking quickly, Dante seized the area just below the devil bringer section of Nero's arm, and forcefully smacked Nero's devil bringer into his own face.**

"**Stop hitting yourself!" Dante howled with mirth, rapidly repeating the same action "Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!"**

**It was at this moment that the front door was opened again, this time accompanied by bright chattering and the sounds of multiple footsteps.**

**Dante stopped instantaneously, aware that Lady had just returned home. In a matter of moments, she would find a door knocked from it's hinges, Dante trespassing, and not to mention smacking Nero around with his own devil bringer. To the best of his recollection, Lady knew how to add two and two.**

**Nero smirked triumphantly as he witnessed Dante's teeth chattering. As Dante loosened his grip, Nero wrenched himself from Dante's grip and landed a powerful blow on Dante's cheek, knocking him into the wall with a resounding thump, delving a sizable crater in Lady's wall. Following Dante, Nero was about to proceed to give Dante a few rapid punches to the gut, but the half-devil had reacted quickly, taking the only route out of this; he jumped out the window.**

**Nero cursed loudly as Dante escaped, but he never got round to attempting to catch the hunter with his devil bringer, as at that moment, time temporarily froze in timid compliance with the boundless rage of Lady, who had entered to find the door knocked from it's hinges, her wall smashed up, accompanied by – a visibly agitated – Nero.**

"**What the _hell_, Nero?!" Lady barked deafeningly, her anger seeming to radiate heat.**

**

* * *

**

_Joe: Done and dusted. Hope yis didn't find it too awful._

_The next chapter will either be Kyrie's or Dante's. Who knows? And, yes, Dante will at some point get his comeuppance, and all will be well._

_All the best to yis,_

_Slàn._


End file.
